Vongola Academy
by caroandlyn
Summary: AU :: Sawada Tsuna is but a mask, and Vongola Academy is but a facade. Deception runs deep inside one of the world's most prestigious Academies, and Tsuna is caught up straight in the middle of it. slightly-dark!Tsuna


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**Vongola Academy**

::caroandlyn::

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**Chapter I**

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Sawada Tsunayoshi is his mother's son, and it shows in the quiet manner he speaks in, in the gentle slope of his face, in his wide umber eyes and the burnt brown locks that bounce chaotically off his forehead with every movement he makes. What little traits he has inherited from his father reveal themselves not in looks nor personality, for Tsuna- as he is affectionately dubbed by his family and adoring neighbors alike- is a special child, destined not for the dullness of ordinary children but the greatness only achieved by those who are extraordinary.

A letter arrives in the mail on the day after his fourteenth birthday, small and inconspicuous, unlike the contents that are hidden inside. Tsuna does not think to give a second glance to it before handing it to his mother, for although his infamous intuition is well-acclaimed for, he himself is untrained and raw, like the ore of a diamond before it is cut and polished. Sawada Nana herself finds no use for it and leaves it on the kitchen counter, unopened and forgotten like the many others that have come before it.

Tsuna forgets entirely about the letter until he comes upon it, several days later, lying on the floor after being knocked down by a careless hand- most likely his own. It is ripped carelessly from one corner to the other from the force of the fall, and he thinks nothing of it until two words on the letter folded neatly inside catch his attention: **Sawada Tsunayoshi-san**.

"Okaa-san," he says quietly, for it is not his nature to yell, "a letter has come for me." His mother appears from the kitchen almost immediately, her expression frozen on her face as if time itself has stopped. She takes one look at the letter in his hand and the now-torn envelope, and the final pieces of the puzzle fit themselves perfectly into her mind.

"Tsuna-chan," his mother says gently, taking him by the hand. "Do you know where your Otou-san is right now?"

Tsuna takes a moment to consider the possibilities, and then comes to the realization that he has not seen hide nor hair of his father for two years. It is strange how that man seems to disappear completely out of his life, as if he had never been part of it in the first place. "No, Okaa-san."

His mother gives a wan smile. "Tsuna-chan, as you may already know, your Otou-san is not a construction worker, nor does he visit the South Pole to take pictures with penguins. He is actually a very important man who works for the CEDEF Board of Vongola Academy." She pauses for a moment to let the information sink in, before continuing, "And you have been accepted to his school."

"Ah," is all that Tsuna can say, as his mind struggles to wrap around this new information. "Vongola Academy... Okaa-san, is that not the extremely prestigious school in which Ieyasu-nii-san was accepted into? I had believed it was only for children with remarkable capabilities."

"Yes, Tsuna-chan," she replies, nodding. "Ieyasu-kun has displayed prodigious abilities with his Sky Flames. But you are his younger brother, and siblings are generally born with the same attributes. Furthermore, both your parents are successful Flame graduates from the Academy, and that alone is enough to guarantee you a candidate position."

He blinks as the words register in his mind. "Okaa-san, you attended Vongola Academy because you had Flames as well?" he asks, staring dubiously at his mother. She is a fragile thing, with long, thin limbs and a rounded face, and he cannot imagine her small forehead engulfed in flames, her cheerful demeanor grim and apathetic. She smiles back at him kindly, and try as he does, he cannot see the demon that hides under her skin.

"Why yes, Tsuna-chan, I did," she answers, her voice sweet like honey, and Tsuna feels a shiver crawl down his spine and something wilt inside him. (He never asks again.)

"Ah," he repeats, staring at his mother. "I see."

She smiles back at him one last time, before engulfing him in a hug. "You're growing up much too fast, Tsuna-chan. Behave at the school. Be careful, okay? Make sure you tell Ieyasu-kun that I expect the both of you back at home during the winter holidays for once," she says, and they both pretend there isn't a growing wet spot on the back of Tsuna's shirt.

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Tsuna finds himself following the meandering pathways of the school campus two days short of a week later, alone and awfully lost. He's dressed smartly in the Vongola school uniform, silken black suit accompanied with a crimson tie the color of blood and roses, but the hem of his too-large dress shirt is exposed slightly at the back despite his mother's best efforts.

It is this clear violation of the dress code that catches the attention of the self-imposed Discipline Committee Co-Head, Kyouya Hibari, and the older boy swoops down on the transgressor not unlike the way a predator would assault their prey. "Herbivore," Hibari says, sharp grey eyes narrowing to meet icy brown, "for not following the school dress code, I will bite you to death."

A small crowd has gathered around the duo by now, interested in the first bloodshed of the year. "I'm sorry, I don't understand," Tsuna asks politely, his mother's instincts leaving him unfazed by the prefect's implied threat. "What exactly do you mean?"

Hibari turns to stare at the brunette's untucked shirt, and the younger boy cranes his neck to follow his line of vision. "Ah," Tsuna says, nodding in understanding. "My okaa-san ordered the smallest dress shirt available, but it turned out to be too large for me. I'm afraid it is not possible to tuck in. I apologize for the inconvenience that it may cause you."

There is a moment of silence, before it is interrupted by a low growl. For a second, Hibari suddenly_ moves_, as if about to strike, but a yellow blur stops him before he can produce the tonfas hidden in the depths of his uniform.

"Giotto-san!" one of the onlookers call out, shocked. "What are _you_ doing here?"

For it is Ieyasu- better known by his Italian name, Giotto- who is restraining the murderous prefect, golden blonde hair wind-swept as always and sharp orange eyes fervently bright. He favors his well-built father in appearance, but Nana's influence is doubtlessly unmistakable: the pointed chin, the rounded face, the curve of his cheek as it connects with his forehead.

"Hibari-san," Ieyasu says, frowning, "you have overstepped your bounds. Leave."

Hibari hisses in annoyance before wrenching himself from the older boy's hold and stalking off, nurturing his wounded pride. The stunned crowd can only watch his impromptu departure, dumbfounded, before he brandishes his tonfa threateningly at them and they too disperse into the distance.

"Tsuna-kun, what are you doing here?" Ieyasu asks, when he is certain that they are alone. "Why are you wearing those clothes?"

Tsuna tilts his head, as if confused why his older brother bothers asking such an obvious question. "I was invited to attend Vongola Academy, nii-san," he answers. "I turned fourteen a week ago."

"Ah," Ieyasu replies, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired and resigned in the dull light of the morning, and there are shadows under his eyes that suggest stress. "I was hoping this wouldn't happen, but I suppose it was inevitable. Listen, Tsuna-kun: make sure you never go around campus alone, at least not without two other people from the same Famiglia as you. Don't draw too much attention to yourself, stay inconspicuous. Avoid the Vindice and anyone related to them. And make sure you don't trust _anyone_, including_ me_."

"What do you mean, nii-san?" Tsuna asks, slightly bewildered by his brother's cryptic advice.

"You'll see what I mean soon enough," Ieyasu says quietly. "And don't call me nii-san in public. From now on, we are strangers."

He tucks in Tsuna's overlarge dress shirt with the ease of someone who has done it many times before, before disappearing into the distance. As Tsuna watches his older brother's silhouette grow fainter and fainter, his only thought is that he has forgotten to remind Ieyasu to come home for the winter holidays.

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"Welcome to Vongola Academy," the Principal says, his voice deep and magnificent as he addresses his rapt audience inside the large auditorium. His name is Timoteo Vongola, and he is a bloodthirsty demon hidden inside the skin of a kindly old man. "We have determined that you all have potential with flames, which is why you have been invited to study in the Flame Department. But before we can officially name you a student, you must first pass the Entrance exams.

He gestures grandly from where he stands at the lectern. "Lal Mirch, if you will."

A woman, stern-faced, tight-lipped, stalks up to the stage. In her hand is a single glass orb, slightly bigger than a baseball. She glowers irately at the crowd of restless young children. "Listen up, brats. I'm the Flame Instructor for first-years, Lal Mirch. I don't accept students who don't _do_ their best, so you better be prepared. When I call up your name, you will focus all your energy into this orb. If it glows, you're accepted into Vongola. If it doesn't, you're out of the game, period. If you complain about your results, I'll show you _why exactly_ you weren't accepted and you'll end up as an experimental subject for the students in the Research and Technological Department for half a year. Got it?"

There is a collective affirmative noise as the children break out into frightened whispers, low mutters that echo against the ceiling of the chamber. Lal Mirch smiles, a poisonous smirk that fills the room with unease. "Kensuke, Mochida!"

A boy three seats to the left of Tsuna stands up assertively, strolling up to the stage with the air of someone who is confident of their fate. He takes the orb into his hand, and immediately it glows a soft gray.

Lal Mirch does not even bat an eye before saying, "Not good enough. Next!"

The boy known as Mochida splutters incomprehensibly. "It _glowed_, though!" he all but shouts, his face rapidly reddening. "Can't you see, woman? It's glowing!" He shoves the orb into her face, and indeed, it illuminates her face with a greyish tint.

"I said, _not good enough_," Lal Mirch says, taking the orb from his hand. "Grey means that you don't have any flames worth mentioning. We don't train _those sorts_ here in Vongola. Now leave, before I make you. Enma, Kozato!"

Mochida _growls_, before thinking better of it and stalking back to his seat in furious humiliation. A shaky, clearly rattled redhead makes his way to the stage, taking the orb from Lal Mirch like a lifeline. It glows strongly, a pure brown the color of soils and wood and nature. Lal Mirch nods, clearly satisfied. "Earth Flames, eh? Haven't seen _those_ in a while. Pass! Next, Chrome Nagi, Dokuro Rokudo!"

A black-haired girl creeps up the stairs of the stage, thin and frail, looking as if she would be swept away if the wind blew too hard. She takes the orb with gentle fingers, staring at it with an intense determination that seems strange in contrast to her tiny frame. It glows a quiet purple, filling the room with an ominous feeling.

Lal Mirch sighs tiredly. "You're Rokudo Mukuro's little sister, aren't you? Same flames and everything? I hated that little brat when he was in my class. He was like a cockroach, rebellious no matter how many times I tried to squish him. Though I suppose he'll torment me for every single day of my life afterwards if I don't pass his darling little sister." She glances appraisingly at the younger girl, as if trying to study her. "Although I suppose you'll be a much easier student to handle than your delinquent brother. Next! Hayato, Gokudera!"

Tsuna watches the remaining evaluations with an alarming indifference, his mind straying to Ieyasu's previous words. _Don't call me nii-san in public. From now on, we are strangers_. What did he mean? Did he distance himself from Tsuna because he thought that his younger brother would fail? Was Ieyasu frightened that Tsuna would shame the family honor? _Did Ieyasu think so little of him?_

And then he remembers the shadows that haunt his brother's face, the utter hollowness in his eyes. The resignation he shows when he had been told of Tsuna's enrollment. His mother's parting words: _be careful._ His father's mysterious absences. What horrifying secrets are hidden inside the school, preying on unsuspecting students and robbing them of their innocence? What demons skulk around the campus, voluntarily burdening themselves with such terrible knowledge?

In that instance, Tsuna suddenly _knows_. Knows that every single person that was chosen by the Academy was not because of wealth, or talent, or power. That even though thousands, maybe _millions_ of people were indeed powerful enough to enter the Academy for training, only a select few were chosen. Because they were _different_ from the others. _Because __they were survivors_.

Of what, he does not know.

"Tsunayoshi, Sawada!" Lal Mirch's voice cuts through his thoughts, and he rises, slowly, in no particular hurry, as if in a trance. Tsuna gratefully accepts the orb, settling it gently inside the palm of his hand, and suddenly he understands what to do, how to do it. His resolve burning bright, he pours all the spiritual energy he can muster into the orb that will determine the fate of his life.

The headmaster is staring at him, as if bemused by something that Tsuna does not understand. He gives a empty stare back, as if daring the older man to say something about it. He does not, instead turning to chat with a servant standing dutifully at the back of his chair. Tsuna cannot hear them- cannot hear _anything_\- for the oppressing silence deafens his ears. He feels as if underwater, detached from the rest of the world by a thin film that he cannot pass through.

He drowns in the darkness.

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"How interesting," Timoteo says, smiling, half talking to himself, half talking to Basil, standing behind him dutifully. The auditorium is hushed, a thick, unbreakable tension building in the air, a hundred pairs of disbelieving eyes focusing on the prone form of the brunet on the stage.

"He- He cracked the orb!" yells a boy from the collective group of Flame candidate hopefuls- Mochida, the first failure, Timoteo remembers; his voice is filled with astonishment, incredulity, fear. "He managed to just crack the orb like that when half of us couldn't even make it glow- _he's a monster_!"

There is a hushed murmuring from the audience, envious, dubious, terrified. Who is this boy, who could easily do what most of them could not and even more- is he even human? Or is he but another monster hidden within a human skin, powerful, dangerous, horrible?

Lal Mirch is the one who reacts first, scooping up Sawada Tsunayoshi's thin frame with ease. "I'll be taking him to Shamal," she says, resolute, her face grim and solemn. "The power inside him must have exhausted him, poor boy. Sky Flames, huh? Pretty unexpected, for such a tiny little runt like him." She leaves the room in a sprint, graceful and deadly, much like the movements of a young buck as it prepares to maul to death a hunter infringing on its territory.

The children are restless, for all of them have heard of the legendary Sky Flames, the rarest and most powerful by far of the Flames. The truth has been revealed, and so the curtains begin the rise, preparing for a new act in this play known as life.

"What will you do, Vongola-sama?" Basil asks, his face as impassive and blank as always. "Will you make him suffer, as you did Giotto-kun? Or will you offer him a choice, in the _other route_?"

Timoteo smiles cruelly, fingering the ring on his right hand. "Neither," he says, the start of a maniacal grin twitching on his face. "I have something... _different_ planned for him."

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End file.
